A Walk in the Sunlight
by Juneymoon
Summary: A man who thought he escaped his violent past is pursued by his greatest enemy.
1. Default Chapter

A Walk in the Sunlight   
Chapter 1:   


High above the forest floor, in the leafy green canopy of ancient trees, nestled the sprawling treetop Elf city named Kelethin. It was a clear and sunny morning on the catwalks of the city, a gentle breeze blew from the East bringing with it the delicately sweet fragrance of springtime blossoms and a slight hint of rain. Tucked away on a secluded platform far from the bustle of the main lifts and the crowded merchant halls, a small cottage lay in the crown of an elder oak. 

Firien awoke to the cheerful chirping of sparrows upon his bedroom windowsill. A warm sliver of sunlight broke through the leaves and alighted gently upon his face. Stretching luxuriously upon clean linens in his comfortable oversized bed, he thought to himself that life simply could not get any better, but something simmered in his veins this morning. For some reason he felt… restless. 

Springing out of bed, he slipped into fur-lined slippers and made the short journey across his room to the washbasin in the corner. Noisily he splashed as he quickly washed his face and grabbed for a nearby towel. The chillingly cold water was quite refreshing and made him gasp slightly with exhilaration. He smiled to himself briefly in his expensive glass mirror, then turned to the closet and set about deciding which soft cotton robe he would wear on this day. 

Having selected an appropriately conservative brown and green robe, he opened the door of his bedroom and stepped out into the narrow hall. 

His senses were assailed by the heavenly smell of warm apple cider, blueberry pie, and freshly made oatcakes coming from the small kitchen below. Taken a bit off guard by this welcome surprise, he hurried down the narrow stairway to see who was there. 

Entering the kitchen he saw a cup of steaming cider next to a fresh cut slice of pie and a haphazard stack of oatcakes piled on a simple wooden plate. Over by the open window, his young niece stood gazing outward upon the new morning with a cup of warm cider in her hands. 

Wasting no time at all, Firien popped a whole oatcake into his mouth and took a small sip of the steaming brew. 

"Gmmmph Mormmphing" he greeted Dianna happily. 

Dianna turned away from the window with a smile on her face but it quickly turned into peals of lighthearted laughter. She laughed exactly the same way his mother used to when she'd caught him with his hand in the muffin box, it sounded to him like delicate silver bells touched by the wind. 

"Oh Uncle! Don't eat like that or you'll burst your poor cheeks!" She laughed and held up a shiny pot for him to see. 

Gazing at his reflection, he saw that it was true, his cheeks were full to the point of bursting and he couldn't help but smile a goofy grin that exposed some of what lay within. 

"Hahahahaha!" Dianna's laughter became more uproarious and quite a bit less dainty as she gazed upon her uncle's silly grin. 

Valiantly he struggled with his food as he half-choked, half-laughed, and half-swallowed the huge oatcake down and washed it away with more cider. Luckily he'd managed to accomplish the task without killing himself. 

Once he was again fully under control, Dianna spoke. 

"Pleasant morning dear Uncle. Mother sends me with these good tidings and has bid me to ask if you would join us this eve for a meal?" 

"Certainly Dianna." He replied with a smile. "How could I refuse such a wonderful offer as this? It is by far, a much more appealing thought than to return yet again to the tavern this night to brave their common fair." 

"Aye, tis true." Dianna nodded at him. "Mother knows full well that ye take your evening meals at the tavern and feels that it be unhealthy for you to eat alone quite so often." 

"Done then" She smiled and walked over to the back doorway. As she opened the door she turned once more to him and said. "I shall inform mother that you will join us at sunset, I bid thee good day until then Uncle." 

Firien sat at the table and listened as Dianna's soft footfalls made their way around the side of the house and away. How nice it was to have someone at home in the morning, he mused. He wondered how much longer his good wife Dyrlia would be away. 

Once again alone, he sat in his empty and silent home. He listened to the faint noises of the world moving busily outside and resolved to get himself moving again as well. He spent the rest of the morning with chores around the house and errands close to home. 

By noon he was back in his home and resting in his favorite chair. 

Firien's eyes were drawn toward the mantle above the fireplace where his sword was hung for display. It rested upon an expensive platinum rack inside of an even more expensive gold and glass case. The sword itself was three feet of gleaming razor-sharp steel with a golden leather-wrapped hilt at its base. 

Over years of hard use the old wrapping had become stained with blood, sweat, and tears for fallen companions. Like an old friend, the sword had served him well, in the best and the worst of times. It had conformed itself to fit perfectly in his iron grip, they were as one when they danced together, their frenzied dance of death. 

When the sword had first gone into the case, Firien had considered redoing the old bindings but decided against it. This was a sword that had seen much of the world. A weapon of incredible beauty and terrible pain, to hide the darker of its aspects was just not right. 

Firien leaned back slowly in the plush and comfortable chair he sat in. Closing his eyes, he thought back and remembered the feeling of drawing that mighty weapon from the weighted holster upon his back. The satisfying hiss of sword sliding from sheath rang like an exhilarating song of battle, lovingly, softly, in his ear. 

*** 

"This way!" he hissed under his breath in the oppressively dark catacombs called Chardok, far beneath the surface of the world. 

His breath came in ragged gasps and his shoulder was aflame with pain from a wicked gash he had suffered earlier in the day, but he paid it no attention because more pressing matters were at hand. Around him in the utter darkness, the dull reddish outlines of his companions was all that he could see. 

"I think… we've lost them… for now." Alsymaya whispered, just loud enough to be heard by all. The Dark Elf warrior maiden moved like a cat in the total darkness, finding footing as surely as if she walked in the light of day. 

"We need to rest Fir." Beaumont said as he doubled over, gasping for breath. Unanimous sounds of the group's agreement echoed the spell caster's words. 

They had been trying to get out of this god-forsaken place for the better part of two days now. A simple scouting mission deep in the heart of the Sarnak's homeland had gone terribly wrong somehow, and they had been fighting for their lives ever since. Their struggle to evade capture had forced them to fight many minor engagements and flee into unfamiliar tunnels. 

They were now completely lost, miles underground. 

"Ok." Firien called out to them softly and nodded his head wearily. "It Looks like we have time for a brief stop. Lets take 10 minutes to rest." 

Almost everyone took the opportunity to sit and groan and massage aching muscles. Alsymaya leaned herself back against the wall and propped her sword up against her. In a few moments, she was breathing heavy, evenly measured breaths… asleep. 

Flak was the only other person besides Firien still standing in the darkness, he began to intone a prayer to his patron deity. 

"Oh Great Marr, Keeper of light! Please send me your blessing. My companions and I are in need of food and water to assuage our hunger and our thirst." 

A soft green glow came into existence before the cleric named Flak and he held out his arms to encompass it. When the glow faded 4 loaves of sweet black bread and 4 flasks of fresh cool water lay within his arms. "Thank you Lord Mithaniel for the kindness you have bestowed upon your faithful servant." 

The bread and water were passed around the party and everyone thanked Flak for the welcome feast. 

Firien broke off a third of a loaf with his hands and stuffed most of it into his mouth at one bite. He then drank ravenously from his wine flask and walked a ways back down the tunnel to stand guard. The others wolfed down their food with similar vigor, for they knew the 10 minutes would be come and gone in no time. 

Firien sat in the darkness, finding a comfortable place amongst the rough stones. He leaned back and stretched his legs, ignoring the tingling pain that now pulsated from them. His breathing was now slower and his muscles ached greatly but he knew he could push on for another day if need be. He'd pushed himself much harder than this before. 

Behind him, he could hear the deep breathing of several others in the party. Apparently more of them were able to nod off and catch a brief slumber. Although, a short nap would have been wonderful, Firien resisted the call of sleep and remained alert. 

It felt like he'd only just sat down when the faint glow of torchlight caught his attention from far down the open corridor. He propped himself up on one knee and waited a moment to see if it would move on, but it stayed in the same place far away. 

Suddenly, he became aware of dim reddish outlines crawling slowly along the floor. They were still a good 50 yards or more away down the corridor, but their stealthy approach betrayed the fact that they knew what they would find here. 

Slowly Firien reached over his shoulder and began to draw his sword. 

Sssssssssshhhhhhiing 

Alsymaya was at his side almost before the blade was free. 

"We are discovered." She hissed harshly, more a statement then a question. Her own sword was at the ready, resting lightly in her hand. 

*CRASH* 

Firien was startled awake by a commotion outside on one of the catwalks nearby. He found himself on his feet and in a defensive fighting stance with his hand hovering over his shoulder, grasping for the sword he no longer wore. 

Outside he could hear a fierce wind billowing and the bustling of many people as they worked to secure loose items. "A storm must have come up while I was napping." He thought to himself as he worked hard to calm his breathing. 

Once again he sat in his comfortable chair, but now it seemed too comfortable for someone accustomed to the out-of-doors, it's enfolding warmth was almost stifling. Slightly agitated, he glanced around his peaceful home and at all of his expensive things. He began to feel choked and uncomfortable in his tiny home, like a wolf within a cage he needed to be free. 

Not knowing where he was going or why, Firien left his home and took to the catwalks. The wind was blowing stiffly from the East and merchants on every landing were hurrying to close their shops against the gale. 

Firien made his way to a nearby lift and down to the forest floor. As he descended, he was struck by the contrast of sound as the cacophony of wind faded. It was amazingly peaceful down below. He nodded at the Guards, stepped off of the lift and looked high above him. He could still see the treetops being buffeted but here, down below, it was calm… too calm… Deathly calm. 

The hair on the back of his neck began to bristle as a feeling of unease overtook him. Something was wrong… 

Following his instincts, he made his way along the forest floor to the next nearest lift. It was the one young adventurers used when they wanted to get near to Crushbone, a small neighboring tribe of weak bothersome Orks. He should have seen lots of young adventurers sitting around the lift being watched by 2 experienced guards, but when he got there he found no one. 

Feeling the need for prudence, Firien began to cast a spell of camouflage and blended in to the foliage around him. Stealthily he made his way up the hill towards Crushbone, what he saw when he crested the rise shocked him greatly. 

The field was littered with bodies, young people from all the neighboring communities lay dead on the ground before him, their pitiful eyes looking up to heaven as if seeking a final release. Amongst the bodies of young Elves he found the corpses of the two guards and several Ork bodies that had been stripped bare. 

"I must warn the town!" Firien thought to himself but the need to know what had happened overwhelmed his common sense. Quietly he snuck onwards towards the Ork encampment. 

Firien eventually happened upon a wandering Ork patrol of three. Quietly he studied them from the shadows. For the most part they looked nondescript but then Firien caught sight of what he was looking for. One of the Orks held a tiny magical wand in its hand. It appeared to be too intricately detailed to be something Ork made, "That must be something powerful" he thought to himself. 

"Die monsters!" A young high Elven Paladin burst upon the three Orks and swung her two handed sword high above her head. Before she got within striking distance, the Ork with the wand had pointed it at her and activated it with an unusual command word. "Ffffroaaaak!" 

A sickening yellowish ray of light flew fourth from the wand and enveloped the intrepid Paladin. To her dismay, her speed was slowed to a crawl and the Orks quickly overran her. 

Bursting from cover, Firien lunged at the Ork with the wand and stripped it from it's grasp. Furious, the Ork drew it's sword and screamed at him, it's words almost indecipherable even though it spoke common, because of a thick guttural accent. 

"YOU DIE OLD MAN!" 

Firien adopted a defensive open hand stance and waited for the Ork to strike. When it came, it was a slashing downward motion with the sword in its right hand. 

Deftly Firien stepped forward under the Ork's guard and grasped it's right wrist with his right hand. Using the downward momentum to his advantage, Firien spun 180 degrees and guided the sword downward and to the right, past his body and into the ground while his free hand grabbed the Ork at the elbow. Now that the Ork was bent over and off balance, Firien completed the move by pushing the Ork at the elbow, further forward and headlong into a tree. The Ork's neck snapped with a sickening crack. 

Wasting no time, Firien recovered the Ork's long sword and stood at the ready. The weapon was surprisingly light and well balanced. Fine steel if he wasn't mistaken. "Where did they get this?" he wondered aloud to himself. 

Realizing that they were overmatched, the two remaining Orks turned and fled, the poor Paladin tried to give chase but she was soon left far behind. 

"You t…think y…you beat us?" Firien was surprised to find the Ork at his feet was still alive, albeit barely. Curiously he stood over the dying Ork, maybe he could get some answers. 

The ork was fading fast but he was able to sputter one final thing. "T…T…Trak..k..a..anon will chew y…y…ou….." 

"WHAT!?" Firien roared. "The Dragon is here?! SPEAK DAMN YOU!" 

Firien shook the Ork viciously but it was too late, it was gone. 

As fast as he could run, Firien made his way back to his home. Along the way he shouted warnings over the furious storm. Lightning and thunder and ice cold rain covered his shouts at times but he was eventually able to warn the guardsmen about the danger as he continued to run home. 

When he finally made it back to his tiny house, Firien rushed up the stairs and flew open the top of his footlocker. Within the polished heartwood container lay his armor and a small fur lined bag tied closed. With all the speed he could muster, he donned his dusty treasures and raced back down the stairs. 

Without a second thought, his fist went through the glass barrier and in the next second his magical sword was once again in his hand. A deft flick of the wrist and the bindings around the small bag were sliced cleanly through. A small almond shaped gem fell into his outstretched palm. 

Slowly, his hand descended in the air and the jewel hung there suspended by magic. 

He spoke a single word. 

"KOBA!" 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

The room dimmed into blackness as Firien grabbed the tiny magical jewel out of the air. The message had been delivered, now all he could do was wait. 

Firien had once been the leader of a secret organization called the DragonWatch. A multi racial team comprised of the strongest heroes from every corner of the world with the sole purpose of countering the threat of dragons. Koba was now their leader. 

The members of the Watch put their racial biases aside and worked together for the sake of all races and all creatures. Their mission was of the utmost importance because the ultimate destiny of the Dragons was the death of them all. 

In the beginning, the great crystalline dragon visited a barren planet and with one swipe of her mighty claw, transformed it into a lush and vital home for her brood to grow and thrive. One day, her children would be strong enough to call fourth an apocalypse that would crack the planet and destroy it in a spectacular explosion of flames. Through this destructive act, her children would transcend the bonds of flesh and be reborn from the ashes, free to travel the stars and breed. 

Unfortunately for the children of the great one, the gift of life left behind by their mother was soon discovered by a multitude of gods and daemons. They brought forth on the face of the new world many diverse races and creatures and gave them life, desires, and dreams. Their children also prospered here. Simple villages became towns, towns became cities, cities became nations and in the short span of a few thousand years, the balance of power had shifted. Now the power of dragons was held in check by hordes of men, elves, ogres and the like. 

Generation after generation, the DragonWatch thwarted the schemes and aspirations of dragons and killed the eternal beasts whenever the opportunity presented itself. 

Firien placed the warm almond shaped diamond back into its fur-lined pouch, as the crack of lightning jolted him out of his musings. His nerves were on edge as he paced back and fourth in the darkness of his living room. The storm outside blotted out the sun and the day had turned black as night. Booming thunder and flickering lightning crashed overhead casting evil shadows on the walls inside. 

He looked at the shadows and clenched his teeth in a snarl, a strange feeling of unease was growing inside of him. Something was not right. 

Silently he padded into the darkened kitchen, ears straining mightily to listen for the slightest noise of a hidden enemy. 

He clenched his fists till his knuckles turned white and tried to slow his breathing. Lightning flashed outside again and the shadows returned to dance around him. 

Something fell to the ground in the other room. 

SOMETHING WAS IN THE HOUSE! 

In one fluid motion he had stuffed the little pouch under his belt and drew his weapon from over his shoulder. Cautiously he crept back towards the main room with his sword at the ready. 

Lightning flashed chaotically again and shadows were everywhere around him once more. Firien's eyes darted back and fourth across the room, searching everywhere in the brief instant of light. 

There! A shadow disappeared behind the bookcase! In less than a heart beat he was there and stabbed his sword into... 

Nothing... 

Firien spun around and surveyed the room. Lightning flashed again and distorted his vision. 

There! He saw a shadow dart up the stairway and into his bedroom! 

Quickly, he charged up the stairs and burst into his room. 

Hovering just inside of the doorway was a disembodied spectral eye. 

"An Eye of Zomm?" He said to himself as he analyzed his situation. "Harmless wizard spell, no offensive capabilities." 

He advanced upon the eye and sliced it in half, which caused it to dissipate. "Eyes are controlled by wizards which means a wizard was spying on me." 

"Hmmm." He turned and looked at the window. "Which means someone wanted to know if I was home..." 

... 

"Oh damn!" 

Before he could turn to run, a banging started on the back door below. He could hear the muffled voice of his niece over the fury of the storm. 

"Uncle!" 

"Oh no!" His thoughts raged in his head. "By all the gods why now!?" 

Again the banging at the back door sounded. "Uncle! Be ye well?! Tis I, Dianna!" 

"RUN!" He roared as he finally got his feet to move. He flew out of his bedroom and made it just to the top of the stairway. 

BOOM!! 

A fireball blast crashed into his room through the window and exploded vehemently behind him destroying everything and sending him tumbling down the stairs. 

"UNCLE!" He heard Dianna screaming from outside and shaking the handle of the door. 

Heavily bruised and slightly burned, Firien struggled to his feet and made for the door. 

"RUN DIANNA! GET OUT OF HERE!" 

A few feet ahead of him he could see the door in the gloom. A bluish white light was shining in through the cracks from outside. Spellfire! Dianna was casting at something outside. 

In his agony, he forced his legs to move faster. That damn fool of a niece was going to get herself killed! 

Just a few steps away from the door that stood between them, Firien felt the surge of a massively powerful spell enfold his body and fling him upward. 

"Aayieeeeeeeeeeeee!!!" He heard Dianna screaming as she flew high above him while he crashed heavily into the ceiling inside his small house. 

"EEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…" She fell from above, and continued to fall, and fall, and fall, down to the forest floor below. 

Firien crashed to the ground in a heap and lay there in shock. 

"Dianna…" he breathed. 

Memories of her flooded into his mind to torment him. 

He remembered standing over her cradle just after she was born. Her tiny hand clasped onto his finger. 

He remembered coming home from long adventures when she was young and having to crouch down low so she could hug him around his neck. 

"Welcome home Uncle, I'm glad that ye be well..." the memory of her tiny voice whispered in his ear. 

All of his emotions drained out of him till there was nothing left inside but rage. A cold and unforgiving rage, a rage that he knew well. He'd lost so many friends and loved ones before. Why had he let love back into his heart? He should have remembered how much this hurt. 

He took one deep breath and then... 

... 

Swift as Quicksilver Firien was up and out the door and running. His body ached but it no longer mattered to him. Nothing mattered to him but retribution! 

Ahead on the walkway he spied what he was looking for. A Froglok was leaping towards him with powerful legs that covered the distance amazingly quickly. Behind it five others were fighting with the few remaining defenders that were left inside the city. They were fighting to get to him! 

As he charged his nearest foe with sword tip leveled at it's heart, the motive of his mysterious adversary began to come together within his mind. 

The Orks were nothing but a diversion. It was a standard military two pronged attack, one to draw the defenders away, and this highly skilled group of frogs to carry out the assassination. 

But this wasn't a military installation, this was a town. People lived here! Hundreds of innocents would be killed by the new Ork onslaught if they were not stopped! 

As he got nearer, his battle senses took over and time seemed to slowed down. Firien was able to make out the tribal insignia on the Frogloks armor. "Krup" 

Firien made a mental note of the fact that to fight it like this would mean death. He could not take a Krup warrior alone. He also began to realize that an entire town would be destroyed, just to kill one retired old elf? The lengths the old dragon was willing to go to boggled the mind. The dreams he'd had of a quiet, normal life were shattered. His past would come back to haunt him, no matter where he tried to hide. 

It seemed that his rest would only be found in death. 

Firien left the ground and leapt feet first at the monstrous frog. "But not today damn you!" 

Unprepared for such an unorthodox attack, the frog was caught squarely in the forehead by Firien's flying drop kick and they both fell hard on the walkway. Before the frog could close it's astonished mouth, Firien was up and speeding away. 

Skirting around the large melee between the other frogs and the city's guards, Firien was able to see how badly the battle was going for the defenders. The Krups were inhumanely sturdy and strong thanks to the enchantments and magical favors bestowed upon them by their draconian master. The blows that the Guards were able to land were barely breaking the skin and they weren't able to very many at all. The Krups may have looked awkward and slow but they were very skilled fighters and parried the swords of the city's guards easily with the metallic bracers they wore around their wrists. 

He remembered from his own encounters with the Clan of Krup that hitting one was like hitting a block of damp clay. None of the guards were doing enough damage to win their individual fights. The battle would be over very soon. 

One of the warrior frogs pulled a small shield away from one of the smaller guards and smashed its green ham fist downward upon his head. The helmet the guard was wearing collapsed inward upon itself like it was made of paper and blood gushed downward to the wooden planks in a shower. 

Appalled by how easily the frog had just ended that man's life, Firien put his eyes straight ahead again and ran as fast as he could for next catwalk. If he could just get to the Wizard spires he could meet up with the arriving force of DragonWatch and together they could win the day. 

Suddenly a green glow of shimmering energy enwrapped itself around him and he was no longer able to move his feet. Turning his upper body around he saw the wizard Krup who had cast the spell at him. It glared at him with it's baleful red eyes and seemed to smirk a thin grin. From off to the left he could see the other frog that he had knocked over had regained it's feet and was now hopping towards him like mad. 

"This is bad." He said out loud to no one in particular. Two more leaps and the frog would be upon him. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

Firien strained his upper body around to see the oncoming frog. His feet were firmly attached to the earth so running was out of the question. 

Quickly he went over options in his mind and found that he had none. All he could do was fight. 

Taking the unorthodox route once more, he turned his back on the frog, even knowing that it was almost upon him. In the split second he had left before it hit him, he took a deep breath and focused his mind and drew upon his inner strength. He conjured up the image of Dianna again and fury welled up within him anew. Raw determination burned in his veins, fear was gone from him now, all he could feel was rage. 

In a blur of motion he drew his hunting knife with his left hand and his sword from over his shoulder with his right. 

*Ssshing!* 

In the next instant he was bent over backwards, slashing at the frog that was right behind him. He managed to score 2 ugly gashes on the frogs inner thighs before it backed up far enough to be out of his range. 

The frog was no fool, it stood there perplexed for a while considering how to attack the howling elf. It could not approach without having it's lower extremities exposed to the elf's weapons. Usually the frog would just get in close and use the length of it's opponent's weapons as an advantage rather than a hindrance, but with the attacks coming from below its reach disadvantage was multiplied. 

Suddenly inspiration struck. It crouched down low and wobbled into the fray. 

*Katang katang! ting ting ting!* 

Firien slashed and stabbed with blazing speed but the frog parried unerringly. Now on the defensive, Firien turned his body sideways to avoid the downward slash of one of the frog's meaty fists. 

The blow whistled through the air, scant inches away, but Firien did not have time to relax. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the frogs other shoulder bunch up as it swung horizontally from the other side. 

With no other way to dodge, Firien straightened up to a standing position, which meant that he was unable to see the frog behind him. Innately, he sensed the next blow coming, and bent forwards just in time. The frog who had aimed for the back of Firien's head and who put it's whole weight into the force of the blow was caught by surprise by this move. It over-extended it's attack and toppled headlong over Firien, crashing to the ground at his feet. 

Now on the offensive again, Firien stabbed and stabbed with his sword and his dagger but again the frog was able to parry most of the blows and roll out of the way without serious injury. 

"Have at thee Froglock! Thy death is at hand!" Yelled a beautiful Dark Elf female who was brandishing a huge two handed sword in one hand. She pointed her challenge at the frog as it managed to regain it's feet. 

"Pricella!" Firien cried out with relief. 

Another Dark Elf wearing a human skull over her own tiny head advanced upon the Froglock and slashed at it in a flurry of paired swords. 

"Hey!" Pricella complained and stomped her foot. "That was my frog Alsymaya!" 

"Finders keepers sis." Alsymaya called over her shoulder as she stepped up the speed of her attacks and pressed forward. The frog was being pushed back but managed to hold it's own against her. 

Pricella joined the fray coordinating her wide and powerful slashes in perfect timing with Alsymaya's darting movements so that they complimented each other as if in a dance. 

"Fight with me Frog!" yelled Pricella, "Not her!" 

"You're wasting your breath sis." Alsymaya replied with a smirk in her voice. "I think it's too stupid to understand." 

"Bah!" Pricella retorted. "Your mother was an ogre and your father was a salamander!" she screamed at it. 

Driven to utter frustration by the Dark Elves' taunts, the frog let out a screaming croak of indignation and flickered a glance back and fourth at the two Dark Elves for a moment, trying to decide whom to attack. It then charged mindlessly at Pricella swinging wildly as if in a berserk rage, exposing it's entire back to Alsymaya's vicious blows. 

"Eeeee!" Pricella screamed as she backed away from the whirlwind of attacks coming at her. Alsymaya followed behind the frog… laughing. 

Behind the twin Dark Elves, Firien could see the others approaching, Koba began to cast a spell. 

Turning around again to see what was happening in the large melee with the guards, Firien saw Koba's spell hit one of the warrior frogs and immediately it's eyes rolled up as if asleep. Aware of what was happening, the wizard Krup slapped the warrior awake again. 

"Hmmm!" Firien could hear the surprise in Koba's voice. Most of the frogs were now free of their individual combats and began hopping towards them. 

"That's not supposed to happen!" Beaumont shouted to Koba. 

"Aye" Koba replied, "I think were in for a tough fight here." 

Koba and Beaumont both began to cast spells. 

Squinting it's red eyes warily, the wizard Krup stopped it's forward advance and put out it's arms to stop the two frogs nearest it. The other two had gotten ahead and made a bee-line for Firien. 

Koba's spell hit the frog to the wizards left side and before it could wake it up, Beaumont's spell hit the wizard. 

Koba began to cast a spell. 

Now realizing why the wizard had stopped it, the frog to the wizard's right slapped the wizard. 

Beaumont began to cast a spell. 

The Frog on the right slapped the frog on the left. 

Koba's spell hit the frog on the right and it fell unconscious. 

The wizard slapped the frog on the right and then was hit by Beaumont's spell. 

Koba began to cast a spell. 

While the flurry of spell casting was going on, Firien was being attacked. 

Valiantly he struggled to avoid the blows but he could not keep track of both of them at the same time, before long he was being pummeled and the sickening sound of his own bones breaking filled his ears. 

His shoulder… 

His arm… 

His ribs… 

*** 

(below on the forest floor) 

Sayuna ran as fast as her legs could carry her in the eerie dark silence of Greater Faydark. 

She knew that above her a massive thunderstorm raged, but the forest canopy was so thick that it blocked all of it out. 

All she could hear was her own labored breathing and her footfalls on the dirt path below her feet. 

Suddenly as she ran, the air became cold… very cold. She stopped running and glanced around her nervously. A plume of white steam escaped from her mouth. 

"What is this?" She said to herself. 

Around her the shadows seemed to draw closer and the silence became absolute. A strange and chilling white fog rolled in silently from all sides. 

She exhaled another plume of white steam. "What the hell?!" 

Ahead, she caught site of movement further along the trail. Unnerved by the sudden cold and fog, she quickly ran forward to see who it was. Perhaps they could travel together? 

She stopped dead in her tracks as she crested a small hill. A limping figure in a deep black cloak struggled off the path and into the brush. Behind it, a wide trail of blood marked it's passage. 

"Oh my god!" Sayuna breathed. How could someone loose so much blood and keep walking? 

"Wait!" Sayuna shouted and ran to catch up. "Wait, I am a cleric I can heal you!" 

As she ran, the figure before her was lost in the thickening fog, Shadows of the great trees were barely visible at the edges of her vision, Beneath her feet, the bright red trail of blood stretched on into the blankness. 

Something was wrong. She stopped following and held her hands to her face nervously. This was too much blood, no one could possibly loose that much blood and still be alive. 

A shiver of fear ran down her spine and she instinctively grasped the platinum medallion of Tunare at her neck. It was warm, almost hot. She looked down and realized that it was glowing a dull blue light. Was she was in Danger!? 

Immediately she turned around to go back to the path but the blood began to disappear before her eyes. It seeped into the grass as if the ground were drinking it up greedily. In a few moments it was gone and she was lost in the white and featureless fog with no idea which way she should go. 

"where…" a gurgling voice whispered to her from somewhere off to her right. 

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she readied an offensive spell in her mind. 

Her heart pounded and her eyes darted everywhere. Whatever it was, it was unnatural. 

"Where…" the gurgling voice was now directly in front of her somewhere and seemed to be getting closer. Sayuna backed away hurriedly! Beads of perspiration dotted her brow and she fought hard against panic. If she lost her head and ran she would be defenseless, her spells were no good if she didn't have the breath to cast them. 

Directly in front of her, the figure in black appeared out of the haze limping towards her with it's head bent over at an odd angle as if it's neck were broken. 

"Stay back!" she warned. It hobbled towards her a little faster. 

She continued to back away and her foot splashed into a puddle. 

Looking down, she saw that she stood in a pool of blood. Looking up again, she saw that the cloaked figure had disappeared. 

Breathing heavily, Sayuna backed up against a tree with her hand upon her medallion. She started to hear shuffling noises coming from somewhere but she didn't know where it was coming from. 

All she knew was that it was close. 

Suddenly the noises stopped. Her heart pounded in her ears and her own breathing seemed so very loud. 

Did it get behind her? 

She looked to the right at the trunk of the large tree she was leaning against. Was it on the other side of this huge tree? 

She took one step in that direction, her foot made a small splash in the pool. 

The hair on the back of her neck began to stand on end again as she had the chilling thought. "What if it was sneaking up behind her from the other way?" Quickly she spun around. 

Nothing... 

Sayuna fought back the urge to scream. She wanted to run away! 

Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps now, she leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes trying to calm herself. 

Something dripped onto her cheek from above. 

She wiped it away and raised her hand so she could see it. It was blood. 

"Oh god… " Slowly she looked upward. 

High above, Sayuna could see a battered and broken body of someone who had fallen a great height through the forest canopy. Above it was the platform city of Kelethin. 

Sayuna looked around again for her pursuer and found that the unnatural cold and fog had disappeared. Was it a spell? What ever it was it seemed to have been broken. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: 

The world went dark for Firien. 

On some level he was aware that the pain had stopped but he was too preoccupied to notice. Once again he found himself deep underground in the cavernous maze of tunnels the Sarnak monsters called Chardok. 

His party had been on the run for a total of four days now and they were all at the brink of total exhaustion. Firien staggered slightly as he struggled to keep his vision from blurring. Behind him, Flak and Beaumont shuffled blindly after him. They were so physically exhausted that they could no longer cast their spells. 

Even Alsymaya was barely able to keep moving. Her weariness was compounded by the fact that she bore the brunt of their last fight alone and Flak could no longer heal her. 

Short respites were their only comfort in the everlasting darkness of the caverns. Somehow the Sarnaks always found them. It was uncanny. Something was definitely wrong, how could they track them so effectively despite the fact that he was covering their tracks? 

Firien made a mental note to ask everyone the next time they stopped, if anyone had picked up anything along the way besides his new sword. 

A few moments later he forgot about it. 

Thirty minutes passed and there was no sign of pursuit. Firien called for a rest in a long straight tunnel that stretched on and on for some distance. Beaumont and Flak collapsed where they were and fell immediately to sleep. Firien trudged on a little further and sat down. 

"ohhhh" He groaned as he sat. Every muscle in his body ached badly and he was mentally at the end of his wits. Supreme force of will was all that kept him awake. 

"Sleep Fir" Alsymaya said to him as she limped over to where he was sitting. "The next fight will be mostly yours so you should be rested. I will stand guard." 

"Alsy, I fear our next fight will be our last." Firien croaked, his voice was gravely and parched. "You go ahead and…" 

Firien heard the faint sounds of footfalls in the distance. Something was coming down the tunnel from the direction in which they were headed. It was faint, but he definitely heard it. 

"DAMN!" Firien whispered harshly. "They've found us again! Alsy get them up! We need to move! Now now now!!" 

Alsymaya and Firien slapped, shook, and heaved Flak and Beaumont to their feet again and they all retreated down the tunnel as quickly as they could manage. Their retreat wasn't fast enough though, for whatever it was that was following them was coming on fast. 

"No good Alsy." Firien called to her. "We're going to have to make a stand." 

"Aye Firien." Alsymaya replied as she drew her thin blade. "It has been my honor to serve you, my friend." Firien placed his hand on her shoulder and she nodded at him. "Lead on." 

Grimly determined to fight till the bitter end, Firien and Alsymaya advanced up the tunnel, one careful step at a time. Somewhat rested from their short sleep, Flak and Beaumont prepared the last spells that they would ever cast. 

"Heal for Alsymaya" Flak said softly and soft bluish glow enfolded Alsymaya. She looked a little better. "Invigorate for Firien" Flak said, his voice a hoarse whisper. Suddenly Firien's body was covered in sparkling golden shimmers which refreshed his exhausted body but his mind still ached with fatigue. 

Flak fell to his knees, and sat there breathing heavily. The others paused to wait for him. A short moment later he forced himself back onto his feet and drew his mace with a dark and determined scowl upon his face. 

"Firien!" Firien heard a female voice call out his name from somewhere ahead in the darkness. 

He watched in a mindless daze as puffs of dust appeared from the cavern floor for no reason. His mind struggled to contemplate how something could be running at him without physical form. Had he snapped under the strain? 

Suddenly Shadowkat appeared before them, resplendent and fresh in her shinny metallic robe. 

"Oh please don't let me be dreaming!" Firien cried out as tears filled his eyes. 

Firien could hear the sobs of his companions as they staggered forward to embrace the welcome wizard. He found himself hugging the back of Flak who was hugging Shadowkat who was being held by everyone at the same time. 

She smiled sadly at them and touched them each in turn. "Come to me now, and away." 

Firien's dream faded in the bright colors of Shadowkat's teleportation spell. Slowly the lights dimmed till he was alone in total darkness. 

"HOW ODD." He thought to himself. The sound of his thought boomed and faded away into the vast and infinite nothingness. What was this place? It was strange here. The darkness was so solid he could almost feel it pressing against him, yet he could feel nothing in any direction, not even a floor. It was as if he had no space and all space around him at the same time. "OBLIVION?" He boomed, and it faded. 

To quell the rising sense of panic that was forming within him, Firien latched his mind on to the thought he had been thinking before. 

"How odd, that I never remembered to look for what lead them to us." The sound of his thoughts changed as he neared the end of his sentence. The space around him conformed to his will and solidified into a scene from his memories. The solid-ness of the rock cavern walls of Chardok formed out of nothingness and surrounded him once again. 

This time it was different. He was a non-corporal observer, floating somewhere near the ceiling of a large cave. He looked down and could see himself crouched near an entranceway. Behind himself he could see the shadows of the others. 

The scene played out exactly as he remembered it. Mortal Firien looked back over his shoulder and motioned the others to silence as a group of high ranking Sarnaks entered the room from one of the two doorways at the far end. Without stopping, they proceeded to pass through the chamber and exit through the other passageway on that side. 

One Sarnak was well behind the others and it grimaced and limped slightly as it walked. As it passed through the center of the chamber it stopped to lift it's left foot and extract a sharp stone from between it's large toes. Having done that, it quickly straightened up and ran down the corridor after it's companions. 

As the Sarnak straightened, Mortal Firien noticed that the sword it carried barely clung to an open loop of leather that served as a holster on the Sarnak's belt. The loop had a snap to close it and somehow it had come undone while it was crouching. The cross guard of the sword rested upon the open ends precariously. 

As the Sarnak ran off, the sword fell from it's hip and landed silently in the ground tip first. It sunk slightly into the dirt floor and stood there alone as it's owner trundled away, none the wiser. 

As soon as the Sarnaks were a safe distance away, Mortal Firien and his companions entered the room and he took up the sword. 

"Wow! What luck!" Alsymaya smiled happily at him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations Firien!" 

The others added a chorus of congratulations to Alsymaya's. Mortal Firien removed his old battered sword from the sheath he wore over his shoulder and tossed it to Flak. 

"Hold that in the supplies for me would you Flak?" Mortal Firien slid the new, shinny. magical sword into his sheath. 

"STOP!" Firien boomed. 

Everything and everyone in the room stood motionless in time. 

Firien floated down from his perch near the ceiling and circled the group of adventurers with Mortal Firien at their center. The sword was only an inch from being completely encased in the sheath. 

"IS THIS WHAT LEAD THEM TO ME?" He eyed the sword warily. It's gleaming steel blade shone brightly and it's golden pommel glimmered in the frozen torch light. 

"BACK UP!" Firien boomed and the scene reversed itself. The old sword flew back to Mortal Firien and Alsymaya un-clapped him on the shoulder and they backed out of the room and crouched down and the Sarnak ran backwards into the room and stopped in the center and inserted the sharp stone and then limped backward out towards the other door. 

"STOP!" Firien boomed. 

The Sarnak was just entering the room. A pained grimace was upon it's face and it looked like it was favoring it's right foot. Firien approached the Sarnak and circled it, only to discover that the back half of it was flat. 

Apparently things were only three dimensional from one perspective, the perspective Mortal Firien was experiencing. It was interesting, but unnecessarily distracting. 

"Fill that in!" Firien commanded. The scene obeyed his will and the Sarnak was now whole. Firien assumed that the room was using the best of his ability to extrapolate what the rest of the picture should look like and filled it in accordingly. Half of this picture was fact, and half of it was assumption. It was a fascinating thing to contemplate, but he would not let himself be sidetracked from his goal. 

Firien circled the Sarnak, scrutinizing him from head to toe. He played the scene forwards a little to watch for any indication that the Sarnak caught sight of them out of the corner of it's eye. 

"WAIT." Firien boomed to himself. "EVEN IF IT DID HAPPEN TO CATCH SIGHT OF US, WHY WOULD IT BE CARRYING A SWORD THAT HAD BEEN SPECIFICALLY ENCHANTED TO KEEP TRACK OF OUR MOVEMENTS?" 

While he was considering that his eye caught sight of something that made him gasp. 

"THERE!" He boomed and floated around the far side. He pointed at the loop of leather that held onto the sword tightly and then clenched his fist till the knuckles turned white. 

The snap was secured. 

"MAKE IT FLAT AGAIN!" He roared. "PUT IT BACK EXACTLY THE WAY IT WAS!" 

Quickly he flew to where Mortal Firien was hiding and slowly made his way back to the Sarnak in a straight line so the perspective would be the same. Sure enough, when he got near enough to see it clearly, the loop was secured. 

He played the scene forward again but whatever happened on the far side of the Sarnak while it was crouching was out of Mortal Firien's view. It was only when it straightened again that he could see that it was now open. 

Merely crouching down like that should not have caused the loop to open. He studied the Sarnak carefully. Even crouched at it's lowest, the swords tip did not reach the ground. 

"SO IT WAS PLANTED." Firien boomed, the realization that he had been carrying his enemy's greatest tool weighed heavily on his mind. 

"BUT HOW!" He growled. "HOW DID HE KNOW WE WOULD BE HERE!" 

Once again Firien flew back to where Mortal Firien was hidden and scanned the open cavern from end to end. After several minutes of searching, Firien found what he was looking for. Near the ceiling, in a tiny crevice of rock, a small red orb was lodged. He flew up to the take a closer look at it, part of the picture was missing, but he knew what it would show. 

"FILL IT IN." Firien commanded and a disembodied "eye of Zomm" wedged in the little opening could be fully seen. 

"DAMN YOU TRAKANON!" Firien exploded in rage and slammed his fist into the rock wall causing a two foot circle of destruction, three feet deep. Rubble fell to the ground far below him. 

Even realizing that this was not real, Firien could not help but feel a little better. 

"BACK IT UP!" Firien commanded and followed Mortal Firien through the tunnel in which they came. Along the way he found the other Eyes in the walls that he and his party had missed seeing along the way. Apparently, the entire inner sanctum was covered with them in this way. As mad as he was, he had to give the Sarnak's credit for thinking ahead. 

So now he knew. But what could he do about it? 

He was trapped here in this place, could he escape it? 

And why had he forgotten about the sword until now? And why had he forgotten to follow up on this place again? 

The whole reason why they had come here in the first place, all those many years ago, was because the ancient balance between the Sarnaks and Goblins had been thrown out of balance and suddenly the Sarnaks were incredibly powerful. He suspected they had pledged allegiance to Trakanon but wanted to find proof of it to be sure. So he had put this little expeditionary force together and… 

forgotten all about it… 

The only thing that made sense was that the sword must have had two powerful enchantments cast upon it. One to betray his position and the other to blur his memory in all matters regarding exposing the true nature of the sword itself. 

"This STRANGE place must be shielding me from the swords INFLUENCE, either that or I no longer possess it." Firien mused to himself. 

*GASP* 

Suddenly Firien was awake again and gasping for air and coughing. The sounds of battle rang in his ears and the modestly attractive face of Rebeka hovered over him. 

"You were very close to Death friend Firien" Rebeka spoke to him in soothing tones. "Breathe and be well, the loving power of Tunare has healed your wounds completely." 

Firien rolled over and continued to cough violently, he felt sick and the world was spinning. 

Before him on the ground, he could see his sword lying where he had dropped it. Unconsciously his hand moved to grab it but he stopped mid way. Slowly he closed his hand and pulled it back. 

"Never again." He gasped weakly. "Never again…" 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: 

Sayuna stood beneath the great tree and gazed upwards at the body wedged high above. The fresh, green smell of the forest intermingled with the acrid tang of blood beneath her feet. Quiet and peaceful forest noises surrounded her and calmed her jangled nerves. A pair of squirrels chittered from inside a hole in a nearby tree, an owl hooted in the distance, and the branches above her creaked quietly in the breeze. 

Somehow, the unhappy spirit of the person who had died here, guided her to this tree. It must have sensed that she had the power within her to help, but how could she get the body down from there? 

The tree was gargantuan. The trunk was probably more than 20 feet wide and the lowest branch was roughly a hundred feet straight up. 

She considered summoning a hammer to throw. Perhaps she might be able to dislodge it? But the thought of causing more damage was not appealing. 

"What have you found there?" A female voice said from directly behind her. 

Startled, Sayuna spun quickly and came face to face with a woman dressed all in black leather who was gazing idly up into the tree behind her. 

"Honour!" Sayuna cried out with relief and gave her a hug. "Where did you come from?" 

"I happened to see you walk off the path in a daze and decided to follow you." Honour replied and smiled. "You started running around in a crazed panic for a while. I was just about to club you with my blackjack and drag you back to the church, but then you stopped here." 

"Ah" Sayuna replied and nodded her head sagely. "What I was seeing must have been an illusion, or perhaps a phantasm." 

Honour looked puzzled. 

"Mmm, nevermind." Sayuna waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's not important how I got here but I seem to have been lead here to this victim high above. 

Sayuna pointed up into the tree. "If we can just get the body down, I can perform a resurrection." 

"I'm on it." Honour replied briskly as she reached behind her back and dug into one of her many small belt pouches. She produced a pair of blackened climbing spurs and a matching pair of climbing claws. Honour hung the claws from her mouth by their straps and affixed one of the spurs to her right boot. The point of the spur extended down from the middle of her shoe on the inner side and protruded about 2 inches. She had to stand on her toes to affix the other side so that the spur didn't dig into the ground. 

With perfect balance she attached the other spur and then set about strapping the claws to her hands. In a few moments she was ready and padded over to the base of the tree on her toes. As swift and as surely as a squirrel, she ascended up the sheer face towards the victim. 

"Oh my god!" Honour called from above. 

"What is it?!" Sayuna called back to her. 

"It's Dianna!" Honour replied. "Firien's neice! She looks like she hit every branch she could on the way down." Sayuna could see Honour looking the body up and down and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. "Severe trauma to the head, clear fluid coming from her ears, open fracture on her left thigh, broken neck, dislocated shoulder, severe swelling on her left side." 

"The swelling is probably a burst organ." Sayuna called up to Honour with a reassuring tone. "But can you get her down?" 

"Aye… Aye I'm on it." Honour replied and shook off the shock that she was feeling. With stupendous strength she lifted Dianna's body out of the notch in the tree with one hand and positioned it over her shoulder. Carefully she climbed down the tree with her burden. 

Sayuna undid her cloak and laid it upon the ground while Honour descended from above. She cast a spell and summoned four flasks of fresh cool water and placed them within easy reach nearby. 

"Lay her here so I can prepare her." Sayuna said and pointed towards the cloak. Honour carefully laid the body down. 

With practiced care, Sayuna washed the blood from Dianna's face and hair and gently examined her scalp for injures with her fingers. She repositioned a few teeth in her mouth, reset the neck's alignment, and straightened the broken nose. Moving further down the body, she found that realigning Dianna's shoulder was difficult because it had gone so far out of place. She managed to right it after some effort and then began to pull and push on the broken bones in Dianna's arms until they were in the correct places once more. 

"Honour, let me use one of your daggers please?" Sayuna asked. 

"Why Say?" Honour unsheathed one of her throwing daggers and flipped it in her hand so she could pass it to Sayuna, handle first. 

"This swelling here…" Sayuna pressed gently against the firm black and blue bulge on Dianna's side. "This is a pool of blood from an internal injury." She explained. "I need to clear it from her body or the spell will heal around it." 

"Oh…" Honour replied. "I Um… I think I'll go see how things are going on the other side of the tree." 

Sayuna's forehead was damp with perspiration and her hair was in her eyes. She brushed it out of her face with her wrist and smiled an understanding smile at Honour. "Go ahead, this is not going to be pleasant." 

After Honour was safely around the tree, Sayuna placed the blade against Dianna's side and pressed down. As she pierced the skin, a stream of dark red blood spurted fourth and drenched the front of her Tunic but she ignored it and made the incision a little larger. 

The dark and semi-coagulated liquid spilled out and soaked into Sayuna's cloak and the ground beneath it. She brushed the larger clumps away and washed Dianna clean with more water. 

Finally, Sayuna raised the badly damaged left leg and used a whole flask of water to wash the gaping wound thoroughly. She removed pieces of bark and twigs that had gotten imbedded in the flesh and fatty globules of her thigh and then re-aligned the bone and repositioned the nerves as best she could. 

With the preparation complete, Sayuna washed her hands with the last of the water and rose to her feet to stretch her aching back and neck. 

She looked over the clean and comfortably positioned body of Dianna one final time and then began the prayer of life. 

The immense power of the goddess channeled through her in a rush of tingling energy. Her vision was overtaken by a blindingly bright image of Tunare and her ears were deafened by the roar of pure power. Dianna's body was bathed in blue flames as bones mended and wounds healed in the blink of an eye. Color returned to Dianna's face as new blood welled up within her body and her strong heart began it's endless rhythm once more. 

"GASP!" 

... 

Firien was still too weak to move but his mind had cleared enough that he was now able to observe what was happening around him. 

Alsymaya had broken away from the fight she had been sharing with Pricella and somehow managed to get both of Firien's attackers away from him. She fought valiantly as blow upon blow struck her small frame. Despite the intense pain she must be feeling, she continued to taunt them relentlessly. 

The frog that was nearest to her stepped in under her guard and landed a solid uppercut to her midsection. Alsymaya collapsed to her knees and coughed up bright red blood on the wooden planks of the platform. 

The skull shaped helmet that she wore over her exotically beautiful face had lost a section from it's jaw line. Through the gap, beneath the helm, Firien could see her teeth tightly clenched and her jaw set firm. 

"You see this sword frog?" She hissed at the Froglock that stood above her and raised her sword weakly with her right hand. A slight gurgling sound was coming from her lungs and her left hand pressed tightly at her side. "This sword is going right up your… 

"ALIVE?!" 

Firien's attention snapped over to the other Frog who was now staring directly at him. 

"HOW … CAN … YOU … LIVE!?" The frog leaped ferociously towards him but he was still to weak to stand. As it approached it howled and puffed itself up into a berserk frenzy. Firien watched as it's eyes turned from pale yellow to bloodshot scarlet red. 

"No!" Rebeka sprung to her feet and stood between them with hands outstretched. The frog did not even look at her as he slapped her away with a vicious backhanded blow. She crumpled into a heap a few feet away. 

"DIE OLD MAN!" The frog bellowed as it raised it's meaty fist into the air. 

Firien glared balefully up at his attacker and watched the blow fall unflinching. If he was to die today at least it would be with dignity. 

Suddenly the fist's motion was halted as a huge earth elemental appeared from nowhere and held fast to the frog's wrist. 

Livid with fury the frog turned and attacked ferociously. 

"Froaak!" The frog screamed as it punched a large chunk out of the elemental's midsection. 

Oblivious to pain, the elemental hammered it back. 

"Kastell, front and center!" Cried a Dark elf spellcaster in a blood red robe. In the next instant a High elf enchantress stood before him. 

Beaumont and Koba were both visibly worn, the entirety of their spell casting power almost spent. 

Kastell seemed to look everywhere at once. She absorbed the situation and made countless mental calculations in the space of a heartbeat. 

In the next instant she was casting at the frog that was fighting with the elemental. The frogs eyes rolled up in it's head just as the elemental started a wide round house punch with it's right hand. 

"GOBABER BACK OFF!" The man in the blood red robe screamed! 

The elemental's fist stopped scant inches from the unwitting frog's face, it peacefully slumbered on. The elemental dropped it's hand to it's side and shuffled over to the Dark elf spell caster like an overgrown obedient puppy. 

Firien looked back again to Kastell but she had moved. Craning his neck, he saw that she was stomping right up to the three frogs in the middle of the platform with her hands spread wide. The wizard watched her approach with a wary eye. 

Beaumont began to cast a spell. 

Koba began to cast a spell. 

The three frogs moved to attack Kastell as she came into melee range but before they could touch her she slammed her hands together and a massive shock wave of force erupted outwards, stunning all three of the frogs at the same time. 

Beaumont's spell hit the frog on the left and it went unconscious. 

Koba's spell hit the frog on the right and it went unconscious. 

Koba and Beaumont both began to cast a spell. 

The wizard in the middle started to come around but the heel of Kastell's hand flew into it's forehead and a shaped force wave blasted him backwards 5 feet, stunning him senseless once more. 

Both Beaumont's and Koba's spells hit the wizard and it fell into a deep slumber from which it would never awake. 

Both Beaumont and Koba collapsed into a heap, their energies completely spent. Kastell took up a position between all the frogs and kept them safely unconscious with subsequent spells while Rebeka healed herself, and then healed Alsymaya. 

"Riptie front and center!" 

"Equin front and center!" 

On and on it went until all of the mighty DragonWatch were there. Soon all of the frogs had been dispatched and Firien was able to relate to them the horrible truth that he had discovered within his dream. 

The battle was over but the war was far from won. 

The DragonWatch laid siege to the Ork encampment of Crushbone, determined to correct the balance of power within the Elven homelands. Much too late did they discover that their Guildhall had been attacked while all of the senior members were away. 

But then that was another story entirely… 

End 


End file.
